Only You
by Satellite Falling
Summary: AU While away at college, Suze accidentally goes back in time. While there, she meets an interesting cast of characters, including small town doctor, Jesse De Silva.
1. Chapter 1

Meg Cabot rocks. I think that sums up the credit enough.

A special thanks to Hot n' Exotic and Bunnylass for continuing to inspire me. This one's for you!

* * *

_Only you._

_This could only happen to you._

_If it could happen to anyone Suze, it would happen to you._

Ever hear something so many times that you start to say the same phrases to yourself? I had heard these words and said these words so many times that they became a twisted sort of mantra.

I suppose I should explain. I, Susannah Simon, Suze to everyone except my mom and my principal, Father Dominic, have some of the worst luck. Not just your average, run of the mill bad luck. I have weird bad luck. The strangest things happen to me, thereby constituting the use of my tag line _'only you.'_

Some people have fairly normal luck, with a piece of bad luck every now and then. Not me. Fate seemed to have it in for me from day one. Don't believe me? The following is a small sample of my misfortunes. It is by no means all inclusive—God, I don't have the kind of time it would take to compile that list.

1) My real name wasn't supposed to be Susannah. It was actually Margaret, which is now my middle name. My father the lawyer, who passed away when I was only 6, filled in the application for the birth certificate. You'd think having a lawyer fill out a form would pretty much seal the deal on having it filled out correctly. For anyone else it would. For me it would not. My father insisted that he was sleep deprived and that was why, upon filling out my birth certificate, he wrote the names down in the wrong order. I was called Margaret for the first 3 months of my life, until they received the birth certificate and noticed the error.

2) I fell down the stairs when I was 2 and had to go to the hospital for stitches. I came home and fell down the stairs again, necessitating another trip to the hospital for more stitches.

3) For reasons still unknown to me, I stuck a bead up my nose when I was 5. It became stuck and I was too afraid to tell my parents. It stayed up my nose until I was 6. The doctor performing my annual check up happened to notice it and set it free. Needless to say, I was banned from beadwork for some time.

4) I have been stuck in elevators throughout New York city a dozen times. I was stuck in two separate elevators on the same day.

5) When travelling to California to be with my mom and new step father, I ended up in Nova Scotia.

6) During my brief foray in the world of supermarket employment, I sliced the tip of my finger off on the meat cutter. It has since grown back. My love of deli meats has not returned.

7) I am the kid in school who has split their pants while at the front of the class.

8) My boyfriend, whom I dated for 18 months, turned out to be gay.

9) My step-brother, Brad, better known to me as Dopey, is also gay. And living with my ex-boyfriend Paul.

10) Upon finding Dopey and Paul together, I walked 3 miles home, 2 of those in bare feet. I burned my feet so badly walking on the hot cement that I couldn't walk for 2 days and hobbled for 3 more after that. (And in my defense, no I did not know that my boyfriend was gay. I mistakenly assumed that when a boy asks a girl out, he happens to like girls. This is a mistake I do not plan on making again.)

So, with this brief list, it is not difficult to see why, upon various odd occurrences arising in my day to day life, the words most spoken by me and about me are, '_only you Suze_'. And it also stands to reason that if anyone could accidentally go back in time, it would be me.


	2. Chapter 2

If I were the type of person to lay blame—and believe me, I am—I would blame the whole mess of accidental time travel on CeeCee Webb. CeeCee is my closest friend from Carmel, California, the place I moved after my mother remarried. CeeCee and I became fast friends shortly after I threatened a classmate with bodily harm after she called CeeCee a freak.

I was in a post-Paul breakup stupor when CeeCee first suggested we study abroad. Visions of Europe, Australia, and New Zealand danced in my head. The thought of putting thousands of miles between myself and my own personal hell became a lifeline to me. I blindly filled out any application that was put in front of me. I trusted in CeeCee's plan of our future so completely that I didn't think twice. CeeCee was in her own post-breakup nightmare from her longtime friend-turned-boyfriend Adam. Adam was caught with his pants down, quite literally, at the Harvest ball with our class president, Kelly Prescott. My pointing out that he was at least cheating with another girl and not her stepbrother did not bring CeeCee the comfort I felt it should.

Now, when a friend says to you, 'let's study abroad', what do you picture? The same things I did, no doubt. Cute foreign boys, scenery, exotic foods. Apparently, CeeCee's idea of living abroad did not come even close to mine, as I quickly discovered when she excitedly squealed after I presented her with an acceptance form for a college I didn't even remember applying to.

'This is the one I was hoping we'd be accepted to!' she exclaimed, throwing her arms around me.

I looked at her like she was on 'the crack'. 'Are you high Webb?' I asked disgustedly. 'It's Canada. That's not abroad. It's attached to our country. It's not even close to abroad. For God's sake—the entire population of Canada fits into our state!'

'But they have the best journalism program in all of Canada. And the city is beautiful. It has…' CeeCee launched into a debate for her future. By the end of it, I reluctantly agreed to join her there. After all, where else would I go?

With Cee going and I going away to the same school, I thought I had a better chance of having my mom and Andy, my stepdad, approve of the whole deal since they were the ones who would be footing a lot of the bill. They were surprisingly receptive to the whole idea. I think, perhaps, my steady uber-bitch presence was wearing on them and on everyone in the house. I couldn't help it. How could I live in the same house as Dopey, having my ex-boyfriend come to visit him? With all of the crap that had happened to me in my life, from humorous to painful, this was the icing on the cake that tasted like shit.

So with my mom's blessing and access to a trust fund my father's will had laid out for me, I was off to study abroad. I knew some things about Canada. I knew Vancouver and Toronto were thriving metropolises—albeit a pale comparison to New York and any city in California—but how bad could it be?

Let me share with you—Toronto is a thriving metropolis—a hum of city lights, culture, traffic and the cultural diversity I loved. Small town Ontario—not so much. We were 150 miles away from Toronto and all that it had to offer. There were farms within walking distance of the house we rented. It was nothing that had expected, nothing I had wanted and yet…

It turned out to be everything I needed it to be.

It took us a very short time to settle into our new surroundings. It was beautiful. There were nature trails everywhere (which I regularly got lost on and got poison ivy, the evil cousin to poison oak, twice), a small yet acceptable mall, a movie theatre and did I mention the men? Small town Ontario may not have much, but the men that went to the university and college? Swoon. Double swoon. All in all, it was no Sydney or Paris or Edinburgh, but it was home enough for both of us. So much so, that we went home for Christmas and for the first summer, then decided to stay and work (read: party and work) for the rest of the summers we went to school.

CeeCee quickly immersed herself in her courses, yet balanced schoolwork with a newfound social life that she didn't really have at home.

I did not settle very well into my courses. I couldn't find anything that called to me. Hell, we were only 18. How are we supposed to know what we wanted to do for the rest of our lives?

While I had originally been accepted for psychology, I picked different courses every semester. I actually did enjoy learning new things, but my mom and step-father did not enjoy paying for my learning of new and different things. After two years of switching majors every semester, they put their foot down. I would have to stick with something or they would no longer be paying my living expenses.

I lamented my situation to my academic advisor, Jim. He had already been trying to help my find my path when I presented him with my new situation.

'Do you trust me Suze?' Jim asked me that afternoon.

Truth be told, there were very, very few people I trusted anymore. While I generally knew that Paul had probably not purposely did what he did to hurt me, it really skewed my perception and how I viewed everything and everyone else. I had truly loved him and I thought he had loved me. I was sure of it and put my trust in it, in him. And look where that had gotten me. Yet I had slowly, so slowly begun working on trusting people again. So it was then that I decided to step out of my comfort zone and answered Jim with a very quiet 'yes'.

'Well then, here's what you're going to do..' and he proceeded to tell me of a class at the local YMCA that needed an instructor. It was a self-defense class for people with 'special needs' he told me. Jim knew I had thrown myself into Kickboxing and Tae Kwon Do towards the end of highschool and had maintained my workouts and classes while I had been away at school. _Why not put it to good use? _ he asked.

I had a thousand good excuses. I have never worked with anyone developmentally delayed or mentally ill. I wouldn't know what to do. How would I work with them? Would they understand me? Would I understand them?

All of my excuses fell away the day I taught my first class. They were some of the funniest, most interesting, bravest people I had ever met. Right there and right then, my career in social work was born. I taught the self-defense class and developed more recreation classes for 'my group'. We had a blast and they taught me more than I taught them.

My mom and Andy were happy that I finally found a course I would stick with. I transferred from the university to the college (and in the way that my life works, the registrar accidentally enrolled me into the culinary arts program, a mistake I quickly corrected upon seeing knives listed as my school supplies for social work!) and graduated in two years with a diploma in Social Service Worker and a job at the Y developing classes for people with special needs.

After four years in small town Ontario, CeeCee and I both had diplomas, but CeeCee decided to stay for an extra year for her Masters degree so I stayed with her. I had a job, a place to live and some good friends. There was no reason for me to return home now. Of course, there was no way to know that I would trip into a rip in the time-space continuum either.


	3. Chapter 3

So everything was going along just tickety boo (one of the many Canadian phrases that has seeped into my vocabulary after living here for 5 years). I had a great job working at the YMCA with people with special needs and a few hours at a local group home here and there. CeeCee had just finished up her fifth year of university, obtaining a Master's degree in Journalism and a summer internship at a local media company. We were going to spend our last summer in Canada having fun and building up our resume. We planned on moving to New York for a year to work, and then take it from there. Things were good. Even with my good-fate challenged self, my run-ins with bad luck were minor—cutting myself by using the wrong knife and needing 4 stitches, falling into the local pond because I was standing on a loose rock, getting my hair caught in the dryer at the Y—just the small stuff I was used to. I should have known that it was only a matter of time before something big happened.

It started out innocently enough. My trusted advisor from school, Jim, and I had stayed in touch after I had left university for college. He had acted as a reference for me and as a sounding board. So when he called me up and asked if I would be interested in helping his wife out, I said, 'sure', without thinking. That was my first mistake.

My second mistake was not running when I found out what he wanted me to do. Jim's wife, Ally, was in charge of the local pioneer village. You know those places where they reenact the past so you can feel what it was like to live 160 years ago? That stuff was interesting to me at nine. It was not as interesting to me at 23. Especially not when I found out that Ally needed me to be a costumed guide at the village.

Ahh, but guilt is a powerful tool. Five of Ally's guides had gotten better job offers at the last minute and she was desperate. Jim had recommended me and, as my best friend fate would have it, my schedule worked out perfectly. Lucky me.

I had trusted Jim in the past and it had turned out very well for me. How would either of us have known that this would change everything for me?

_At least there is a public washroom with real toilets and running water _ I consoled myself while I tried to put my hair up in a fancy bun like Ally had taught me. I swore like a sailor as it fell out for the fifth time and settled on a hasty French braid as I ran out of the house, decked out in 1840's splendor with a pair of steel-toed boots to accent the outfit. Though I doubt the pioneer women outfitted themselves in black steel-toed army boots, it was the one thing I would not do without.

The boots were not the only fashion item I had gleaned from those I went to school with. My new mainstay of jeans and t-shirts were packed into my bag to change into after work so CeeCee and I could head out to the movies with a few guys from her work. Though our taste in clothes had mellowed and changed considerably since moving to small-town Ontario, we drew the line at wearing socks with sandals as so many people felt compelled to do. For the love of God, if it's too cold for sandals, wear shoes!

My first morning went by in a blur. I repeated my script and bio to anyone who would listen. I spent more time studying my 'history' and my script than I did in all of college! Slowly, the words stopped feeling so awkward on my tongue. I actually found myself smiling while watching the 'pioneer minister' give a talk to a group on how to act proper when in the presence of the opposite sex. Imagine living like that! No hand holding or kissing out in public. And don't get me started on the whole 'no-sex-before-marriage' thing. It all seemed unfathomable.

Lunchtime came quickly. Ally, decked out in smiles and filled with appreciation for helping her out, came to let me know I could take a half an hour break.

'Many people like to head for the hills for lunch,' she laughed, pointing to a grassy area a five minute walk away.

'I think I will,' I responded. Grabbing my bag with my lunch, my MP3 player and my dayplanner, I went towards the area she had pointed out.

_How odd_, I thought when I looked ahead. _It doesn't seem to be that hot out_. About 10 feet in front of me, the air shimmered in a mirage-like effect, similar to the sight when you are driving on a stretch of highway during a hot spell. I blinked my eyes a couple of times while approaching the shimmering, yet it didn't disappear. It appeared roundish in shape and the only noise I could hear was from the children running around in the village behind me.

_I wonder what_….and that was the last thought I had before the blackness pulled me under.


End file.
